Sauron's Child
by RainbowQuest
Summary: An alternative Lord of the Rings featuring Sauron’s child. Please review as I do like to know how you're finding the story and I'll try and write it faster... deal?
1. Prologue

When you wish upon a star your dreams come true… but does this allow you to rewrite history

Sauron's Child

An alternative Lord of the Rings featuring Sauron's child, this is my first fanfic so please make any comments constructive – thanks!

Chapter 1 – Prologue 

There is no such thing as perfect evil.Evil does not always beget evil.Sometimes, though extremely rarely, as two negatives create a positive, two evils may produce hope. After all is not the phoenix birthed out of flames?Such a creature of hope was the sole child of the Dark Lord and this tale is the story of the child's coming of age and involvement in the ending of the third age.This tale begins after the battle of the Last Alliance and the start of the third age.The dark forces have been scattered. Good has triumphed and the Dark Lord, Sauron, has been defeated. His ring of power, in which a great deal of his strength has been instilled was cut from his finger and lost.But even though Sauron was defeated he was not destroyed and his spirit was still tied to Middle Earth.As Sauron's spirit was not powerless he was able to begin regenerating himself…

*****

By the midst of the Third Age Sauron had established himself as the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. Here in the south of Mirkwood he rested constructing himself a new form.His last battle had been desperate and in destroying Numernor he too had nearly fallen.When he awoke from its regenerative sleep Sauron was un-amused, disappointed and angry with Middle Earth.How dare those petty creatures not submit to his rule, though the Dark Lord.He would have his revenge. He would destroy all those that thwarted him. He would be merciless.He would be cruel and strong, but above all else he would rule Middle Earth in its entirety. Then, once ruler of Middle Earth, he would quest westwards over the sea and destroy the elven havens.He would be the absolute ruler and Sauron knew that should his ambitions come to be realised he would be as if a god.Yet firstly he need to rebuild himself, but try as he might he could not reconstruct his finger that had been torn off as the One ring was cut from his hand.The Dark Lord wondered where his ring of power was.Probably the elven demons had it and were guarding it somewhere out of his reach.If only he could but regain his ring, he could rule middle earth and even broach the realms across the sea, for when he forged the ring much of his power had been 'vested to it.Without the ring he was diminished.Still strong but with lesser strength and it would take millennia to regain the lost strength.But this time, once his ring was rightly upon his finger, he would not be defeated he would bring all the other ring wearers over to him.At its zenith his powers could corrupt even the wearers of the three elvish rings and once they were his slaves he would have power for all eternity.The dreams of higher power that drove Sauron further corrupted his soul.

As the years passed the Dark Lord slowly began to increase his strength and he amused himself by breeding new races that would increase his dark powers.It was here at Dol Guldur that he completed the breeding of the Olog Hai, a race of trolls that could withstand light. The torture that these experimental trolls were put through, is indescribable. Each generation was slowly exposed to more light, however often the dosage was incorrectly judged and all around Dol Gudur their stone statues still stand.After several hundred years the new hybrid trolls could withstand the light of dawn without their warty hides blistering.More generations were selected and the light training was augmented by the distillation of evil magic allowing the trolls to mutate faster.The experimental trolls became slightly smaller than their nocturnal cousins, but there hides were thicker and their eyes reduced.Also they became more viscous and with training, superior fighters.At last, thought Sauron, he had creations that were worthy to be his slaves.Ways of increasing the worthiness of his future armies played upon Sauron's mind.The creatures should be massive, naturally destructive and loyal to the Dark Lord; yet still intelligent enough to battle without needing a commander.The Olog Hai trolls were powerful fighters and more intelligent than orcs but still they were no match for those demon elves.Dragons were a race more suited to Sauron's purpose but they never treated with either the darkness or the light, they wanted no involvement in the battle between the Dark Lord and the others.This was a shame as the inclusion of worms would be an asset to Sauron's forces, but they were too arrogant and self-centred to serve him.What the Dark Lord really needed was a much stronger dark race.The enhanced trolls were a beginning but served solely to whet Sauron's ambitions to create the strongest dark race.The dark lord now wished for the ultimate of dark creatures.He wished to recreate the ogre race.

Ogres no longer existed on middle earth. These monstrous and destructive beings had not been seen since the Second Age but they were still rightly regarded as the most evil and terrifying creatures to have ever existed.It was with tales of ogres that a mother would frighten her poorly behaved children, "don't do that the ogre will get you" and "nasty boys and girls get eaten by ogres."These legends still lived on and for a race that had not been seen for millennia and even then had been created by the foulest magic.If Melkor, once master of Sauron, corrupted elves to create orcs in the first age, reasoned Sauron, surely he, whose power surpassed that of his erstwhile master, could corrupt elves to such extent that they became ogres.To obtain elves to fulfil his despicable plan, Sauron commanded the spiders of the Mirkwood, to trap sylvan elves and bring them to him at Dol Guldur and once he had elves in sufficient numbers the changing process could begin…


	2. Elven Prey

When you wish upon a star your dreams come true… but does this allow you to rewrite history

Sauron's Child

Chapter 2 – Elven Prey

In northern Mirkwood the golden sunlight filtered through the leaves and bathed the forest floor in a warm dappled light.The air was sweet, perfumed by the scent of the innumerable wildflowers found upon the forest floor and birdsong filled the air, the notes and melody blending harmoniously with the gentle whisper of the leaves upon the trees.Deer, noble and unafraid walked through the fallen foliage that lay upon the ground.The russet leaves rustled and the grass shivered.The deer froze and heads raised, checked the glade for an unknown enemy, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation but the birdsong continued.When reassured of their safety, have neither seen, heard, nor smelt another in the glade the deer relaxed, lowered their heads and began to graze on the tender forest grass.Smaller animals entered the glade, young rabbits played on the forest floor. They jumped in and out of the wildflower clusters happily content to frolic.Squirrels chatted in the trees, squabbling over nuts and passing on inconsequential gossip about each other.All was calm.This section of the forest was at peace.

A high trilling laugh sounded and an elven boy entered the glade running with much bounce and vigour.The animals were startled and tensed, ready to bolt but upon noticing that the noisy intruder was an elf they relaxed and carried on as before.All except for one surprised elderly squirrel and that much-affronted russet furred, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed creature threw an acorn down at the elven head."You startled me young elf.Have the poise of your elders and don't scare us forest folk," berated the small creature. 

The elven boy looked up at the offended squirrel, having both heard and understood the animal's complaint.He bowed."I beg pardon noble squirrel," he started, "truly I meant no disruption."The squirrel blinked in acknowledgement of the apology and whilst muttering slightly returned to the serious process of gathering victuals.The boy smiled and glanced around at the glade.The smile lit up his face, any observer would realise that this pretty boy-elf would be handsome when he reached maturity.He was tall and long limbed with fine elven features and already the appearance of certain nobility. But as the squirrel stated he lacked the poise of a grown elf and was still as playful and mischievous as a puppy.A human observer would place the child around ten years of age but the young elf had already the greater part of a century.He was dressed in green, as wood-elves tend to be, and a long white knife was tucked into his belt.The elves in Mirkwood normally carried weapons, for although most of the forest was peaceful in some parts evil things lived.However the boy was already in danger, he was being followed but this danger was entirely of his own making; as in his hand he held a stolen gold object. The elf-boy opened his palm to look at his prize.It was a golden ring with writing cut into the inside in some archaic script.The boy glanced at the writing and tilting his head to the side attempted to read it.He vaguely recognised the script but could not read what was engraved.

While the boy studied the ring he failed to notice another presence in the glade.Silently a girl-elf, slightly older than the boy and entering the realms of womanhood, had entered the glade behind him. She crept up upon him and he continued to stare at the ring as if entranced.Then she pounced, but the boy danced out of the way and turned to face his attacker.

"Well now sister," called the boy, still dancing gracefully, "you look a mess."

At such flattery the girl grimaced her kinship to the boy was shown in the similarity of their features and, even though her hair was darker, a rich walnut brown, they were easy to place as siblings. She appeared flustered, sweating as if tired and, unusually for an elf both her hair and clothes were disordered, but now carried her self with an excessive adult maturity prepared to berate her younger brother.The girl had been bathing when Legolas surprised her and had dressed rapidly before chasing him.

"Legolas" she stated, in what she considered to be a calm and adult fashion "just give me back my ring!"

The boy turned to look at her and then laughing threw the ring into the air and caught it, " What this old thing".

The girl moved forward and pompous maturity disappeared as childish inclination waxed. She tried to snatch the ring off the younger child but he danced backwards holding it high above his head.His feet moved nimbly and he danced towards the trees."Why should I give it back to you?" asked Legolas.

"Because it's mine" was the childish retort "and if you don't I shall tell our Father".Legolas blanched and his sister continued to threaten. "I expect that Father will not be impressed with you teasing me, particularly as you are not at weapons class.I know that you are supposed to be there and I heard tell that you are hopeless…"

"Am not!" burst out the young boy, "Just because I missed all my shots during archery yesterday, and that was a one off! I never normally do…"

"You are rubbish," retorted his sister."You are such a poor warrior that I could beat you and I am just a girl!"

Legolas, unwilling to acknowledge the truth scowled sulkily and moved closer towards the trees

"Just give me back my ring Legolas!" The girl moved forward again and Legolas retreated once more. "Please my brother" asked the girl.

"Very well," said Legolas conceding to his elder sisters' first polite request and growing bored of the game and the insults."But only if you translate the inside to me, because I can't read it," with that Legolas threw the ring to his sister.She caught it deftly and held it up to her eyes to read the ancient script.

Looking at Legolas she smiled and then said, "Are you sure that you can cope with the power of this inscription?"Her brother nodded violently both mystified and excited.He could not believe that his sister possessed a ring with power." Very well" continued his sister, "the script reads…" The girl stopped and glanced at her younger brother, he motioned her to continue, his eyes wide with anticipation. The girl-elf smiled and then pronounced with an air of deep mystery, "For Vanaria my daughter, Thranduil."She grinned at her brother as his face darkened with a scowl.

"You tricked me" said Legolas."It was never a precious ring, it's just from Father".

"Well it's precious to me," said Vanaria, "and anyway I cannot believe that you stole it from me and that haven't mastered Tyelpetema script yet, after all it's only another way of writing Quenya.You really ought to attend your studies more little brother."

Legolas contined to scowl and ignoring his sisters' statement about his learning said, " I didn't steal it.I was just playing with you and I would have given it back."Vanaria humphed and the two elven children continued to bicker.

The squirrel that had originally spoken to Legolas looked at the two children and shook his head."Really," he said, "I would expect the children of the King of the Wood-Elves to be better behaved. They do their father no justice." The squirrel that sat upright, on the westerly breeze he smelt a new scent.It was rancid and unsuccessfully blended with the perfumed air. To the squirrel it smelt of evil and he quickly retreated to the top of his tree.The other animals in the glade noticed the smell and they too left, but the two elven children were too busy squabbling to notice the glade's gradual desertion.

Then the birdsong halted. The children fell into silence and tensed. They glanced at each other realising something was very wrong knowing they were in danger.Legolas' hand felt for his knife.Vanaria's hand went to her belt too but in her hurry to dress and catch her brother she had forgotten hers. 

"Legolas," she whispered. He looked at her. "I've no weapon. You will have to defend me little brother." Her brother gulped but nodded and moved so that he was standing next to her.It was then that the attack was launched against them.

Spiders exited from the trees and encircled the two children. These spiders were as a large as a half grown boar and dripped poison from their fangs."Elven children, nice to eat, very tasty. Sweet, sweet meat," chanted the spiders softly.

"Elbereth help us," muttered Legolas, staring at the creatures with fear and loathing.

"He won't," said Vanaria with her eyes firmly surveying the arachnids. She was searching for a weakness in the spiders' circle, somewhere that she and her brother could break through.None appeared and the eight legged creatures drew closer. She would have to save her brother, she thought, knowing that as she was unarmed it could mean her death."I have a plan," she mumbled.

"What?" asked her brother, now shifting his weight from foot to foot and adopting a fighting pose.

"I will throw you up into the branches, so you can escape home to get others to aid us, " whispered Vanaria.

"But you have no weapon…" began Legolas.

"I know!" said the girl.The spiders scuttled closer. "Give me your knife and I'll hold them off until help arrives."

"You're sure?" questioned her younger brother fearfully.

Vanaria nodded."Come on they're closing, lets do it now."With that Legolas handed her his blade, which she swiftly tucked into her belt.The girl then knelt and held her hands out infront of her. Legolas placed one foot on her hands, which she lifted upwards, standing as she did so.Her brother was flung upwards; he acrobatically flipped and landed in a tall oak tree."Go!" screamed Vanaria as the spiders moved closer too her. As the spiders closed in open his sister Legolas ran.

The beauty of the forest blurred around him unnoticed as he ran faster and harder than he had ever done before. Calling for help as he went.Within minutes an elvish hunting party that had fortuitously been in the area came to his aid. "What ho young prince," called the leader of the hunting party smiling generously. "Fleeing from the wrath of your sister?" 

"The glade…" gasped Legolas gulping air and pointing in the direction that he had just run from, "spiders attacked… Vanaria… get help…"Hearing this news the hunting party raced in the direction that Legolas pointed, desperate to assist their young elven princess. For all free life was precious to elves but elf-children were especially precious.The child prince Legolas exhausted followed gamely seeking to assist his sister too.When Legolas reached the glade he saw dead spiders littering the forest floor but there was no sign of his sister.

Legolas started to cry hysterically and, between sobs he repeated the spiders' chant, "Elven children, nice to eat, very tasty. Sweet, sweet meat." The hunting party looked at the young prince with sympathy and concern.

"Take Prince Legolas home," commanded the leader of the party to another elf."We shall search for our princess." Then the hunting party set off in pursuit of the foul spiders.

When the hunting party returned several days later.They had not found either the spiders or the princess.The spiders had retreated into southern Mirkwood and the small party of elves was fearful of venturing there.She was therefore assumed to be dead and the court of Thanduil greatly mourned the loss of Vanaria Greenleaf.

******


	3. Elf in Darkness

When you wish upon a star your dreams come true… but does this allow you to rewrite history

Sauron's Child

Chapter 3 – Elf in Darkness

Vanaria awoke.She opened her eyes but only blankness greeted her vision; a white bandage had been placed across them obscuring her sight.The girl-elf then tried to raise and hand to her face thus removing the bandage, but even as she attempted movement she discovered more bonds binding her tightly.The child realised that she was fully bound and with a sense of dread she knew that she was tied with spider's web, the sticky cords encasing her in a cocoon.The girl panicked and thrashed violently, desperately attempting to free herself.Something dug painfully into her arm."Silly elf. Cease struggling," a dismembered voice ordered. The voice had a soft sibilance indicating her addresser was a spider, Vanaria's assumption was confirmed as the spider continued "or we will bite you hard".

Vanaria despaired.The frightened elf believed that wrapped in the cocoon she would be devoured by the evil octopeds.After all had they not said as much as the closed upon her and her brother?With fear Vanaria remembered her brother's safety. Surely Leogolas had not fallen to these monsters too?Her darling brother had to be safe, but the distraught girl was not sure."Legolas!" she attempted to cry, but the spider's web encasing her muffled her cry such that all a listener would her was a low and unintelligible mumble.She screamed but the result was the same. She was so tightly bound that almost no noise could escape from her.Also the taste of the web was foul and Vanaria restrained herself from retching.The blackness of her thoughts threatened to overwhelm the young elf and she trashed senselessly against her bonds, trying to call desperately to her father and brother.

The spiders were unamused by the elf's struggles and muttering.Although they knew that they would be rewarded by the dwellers of Dol Guldur, they were not particularly pleased with capturing an elf as the spiders were of the opinion that they would call down the wrath of the wood-elves upon themselves.Thankfully not being prone to thoughtful consideration this did not overly bother them, but it did provide an occasional worrying niggling thought.This resulted in the spiders being of the mindset that the sooner they got rid of this troublesome elf the better and therefore they were proceeding to the south of Mirkwood and Dol Guldur as quickly as possible.They moved rapidly for they were conscious that the elves would track them and if they were caught… well elves could be merciless upon occasion.Travelling at such high speed the spiders easily outdistanced the hunting party tracking them and sealed Vanaria Greenleaf's doom.

By nightfall one day after capturing the elf the spiders arrived with their captive at the gates of Do Guldur."We bring tribute," the foul octopeds chorused, claiming the attention of the gate guards.The two orcs that were assigned to the gate viewed the party of spiders and their cocoon with trepidation.

"What've you got then?" asked the braver of the orcs gesturing, with the butt of his spear towards the object that the spiders carried.His voice was harsh and Vanaria winced at the sound of it.

One spider stepped forward and rubbed its forelegs together as it addressed the orc. "We bring an elf as the master asked."

The orcs looked at each other in confusion. They had heard nothing of elvish demons being wanted by the Dark Lord, but then they were not privy to their Lord's dealings."Go get the captain, Karg," the braver orc said to the other as he carefully watched the spiders, who were dripping venom from their fangs unhappy with the delay of offloading the elf.The second orc Karg then ran clumsily and nevertheless swiftly returned from the captain of the gate guards.He frantically gestured to his companion.

"We must know if the elf brought by the spiders is alive," said Karg having been instructed by the captain to determine this.

A spider said, "Yes," and then hit the cocoon squarely in the middle. Vanaria gasped and struggled desperately.

"It's alive then," she heard a deeper and harsher voice answer the spider.Vanaria saw a shadow through the translucent cocoon as the owner of the hash voice leaned towards her.

She struggled and tried to speak, "Mnnmm" was all she managed, the spiders' web continuing to prove an effective gag.

"Silence!" roared the harsh voice, whilst something kicked her hard in the back.Vanaria, who had always been treated gently and never know pain, gasped, tears forming in her eyes."I will be obeyed," threatened the harsh voice leaning close to prisoner, breathing on her face.Rancid breath overlaid with the stench of rotting meat penetrated her senses and amplified her fear.The girl-elf gagged.

The harsh voice gentled, "Oh does the little elf not like Karg." Another kick struck Vanaria on the back, this time harder and the poor trapped elf gave a muffled cry of pain."Well, Karg hates elves and this is how he welcome's them to Dol Guldur."The kicking continued and no matter how hard Vanaria struggled either to avoid the kicks or lessen their blows they still fell with unnerving strength.Eventually one struck the girl on the temple and the battered and bruised elf slipped mercifully into unconsciousness.

*****

When Vanaria came too she was lying on the floor in the dungeon of Dol Gudur.It was darker than a moonless night, the very density of the dark oppressive and for a moment, the sylvan elf felt suffocated by the blackness.The air stank fouling and the entire atmosphere was malicious.The girl was fearful and began to take stock of her surroundings.She was lying on a cold and slimy stone floor, strewn with rancid straw.Water was trickling nearby and the sound of each drop resonated in her head. She sat up, starbursts appeared before her eyes and her head felt lighter than an autumnal leaf.Wondering about her dizziness the elf brought her hand to her face.It felt warm and sticky; she licked her lips and tasted the metallic tang of blood.Her fingertips explored her face, which was lumpy and swollen. There was much tenderness around her jaw and left eye.Vanaria pictured an image of herself with her face all battered at court with her father; the image caused her to smile ruefully. It hurt.

The girl began to explore her surroundings crawling on the floor.She was in a cell twice as long as she was tall and just wider than she was with arms outstretched.In one corner of the room was a door.It felt ancient, with harsh grained timbers and rusting iron studs.Vanaria scrabbled at the wood mindlessly trying to claw her way out.The timbers yielded not and her fingernails were torn to the quick.The fearful elf-child collapsed at the foot of the door, curled into a ball and cried.Her sobbing so hopeless and unselfconscious that any being with a heart would pity the poor lost girl.

Unfortunately Vanaria's jailor was the orc Karg and he took much pleasure in torturing those weaker than himself.For the next few weeks he had sole charge of the prisoner as her fate was hidden in the hierarchy of the Enemy's troops.Time and time again he beat her and for amusements sake he starved the elf-child, torturing her by eating her food and drinking her water in front of her.Yet again Karg raised his fist to the elf princess and she flinched lowering herself to the floor, lying in the muck of her cell floor.The orc struck the girl and she cried out, her eyes turned from her tormentor to the door where escape and freedom beckoned.She crawled towards it, only to receive a kick in the shoulder from the cruel Karg."Going anywhere ugly?" he asked as he continued to kick.

The terrified beaten elf-girl grovelled and as the daily ritual demanded lowered her head turning her eyes from the light of her torturer's lantern and whispered "No sir."A shadow then fell across the girl's head and she flattened herself to the floor hoping to minimise the damage of the kick she knew was coming.No blow fell.The child turned around hoping that this was not to be some new form of pain that Karg invented for her.Much to her surprise she saw the orc suspended in the air by a black-cloaked man.

The child smiled hopefully at her saviour and grovelled on the floor in front of him, unaware of her pitiful state.The black-cloaked defender looked down at the elf-girl and then bent to caress her bruised face."Karg the goods were to be undamaged," spoke the girl's protector looking at the orc whose hair he held.

The orc began to abase himself, "But lord she is evil.Wicked. Tries to escape.Your loyal servant Karg just stops her."Karg twisted himself trying to make eye contact with his capture.In disgust the lord flung the orc across the room.Karg struck the wall with a resounding crack, yet he flinched not such was his fear of the black-cloaked lord.

The lord looked down upon the elf-girl lying at his feet She gazed upon her saviour with worshipful, fearful and hopeful upturned eyes.Eyes dark and as velvety as the night sky before dawn, eyes that implored him to rescue her.The black-cloaked man caressed the girl's head, stroking it as if she were a faithful hound, and turned his eyes upon the cowering orc."Fool. You lie to the Mouthpiece of Sauron, think that I cannot detect your petty lies!" demanded the black-cloaked one."You have hurt this little elf and you will pay for it."Sauron's mouthpiece moved over to Karg.He spoke in a tongue that Vanaria confused, beaten, bruised yet hopeful knew not.But the girl-elf was too fearful to look further than the caressing tone of the man that petted her hair.To her he seemed kind and perfect.He was providing her with hope.The lord then slew the orc and removed the dazed girl-elf from the dungeon.

Vanaria was moved to a luxurious suite in the heart of Dol Guldur.Her rooms were decorated with oriental carpets from Harad covered in pictures of fantastic birds and beasts, hawks sported with dragons and rabbits danced with dolphins.There were precious vases and statues adorning all the niches from countries long since fallen, silken hangings, providing curtains of leaves with waft finer than spider's web all woven by elves in a previous age.A floor of finally polished quartz, constructed by the dwarves of Moria for their caverns aeons past and a thousand other objects of art.But the girl-elf was unable to appreciate these treasures.Though the rooms were harmonious and delightful, places for rest and relaxation of both body and mind as for the next few months past Vanaria was in a hazed state, her mind no longer her own, it was always clouded by drugs and dark magic.What happened to the elvish princess during that period she never fully knew. But when she regained her senses, a fine day during spring she realised that she was with child.

The girl was terrified, for she had only recently come to womanhood and the realisation that motherhood was fast approaching and to bear a child with an unknown father… Vanaria was fearful; she knew neither who the father was nor what.Had the orc Karg assaulted her?Maybe it was her black-cloaked defender.She vowed to determine the parenthood of that which she would bear and set her mind to doing so.The first person to enter her rooms, a serving wench, Vanaria questioned mercilessly and obtained little information, other than she was regarded as "the Master's mistress." " Who was the master?" wondered the elf and "was he the father of her unborn child?"This period of lucidity did not last long. For the interrogated serving wench swiftly informed the higher authorities of her questioning. These saw to it that the elf princess was swiftly returned to unquestioning bondage by means of dark magic.

So all the time that her babe grew Vanaria knew not what she did.Only during her labour was her mind returned to her and through the pain of childbirth her understanding of her situation became clearer.It was a long labour and Vanaria suffered greatly. After a night in labour at daybreak her child was born. The midwife who had attended her held the babe proudly and then handed the precious bundle the elf princess.In form the little girl was perfect, with tiny delicate hands and the smallest possible feet. Vanaria smiled down at her tiny daughter lovingly but then uncannily the babe opened her eyes and these were yellow, with a pupil slit like a cats.Vanaria heard herself draw breath rapidly; she had heard the folklore and knew that these were the eyes of the Enemy.It then came to her with a sense of dread.She daughter of Thanduil had unwillingly borne the child of Sauron.

With swift and illogical realisation the elf-girl decided that the babe had to die and there on the bed that she had just birthed placed her hands around her babe's neck and began to squeeze.The midwife intervened."What be you doing woman?" shrieked the affronted nurse snatching the newborn from Vanaria's grasp.

Vanaria's eyes widened with shock and then the elf bowed her head with shame in the realisation that she had attempted infanticide."My apologies good woman," said the elf-girl to the midwife. "I know not what evil attended me. In truth I wish only to give my child this," Vanaria removed the ring her father gave her from her finger and held it up for the other woman's inspection.

The midwife nodded briskly," It be a pretty enough bauble and don't you worry dearie, new mothers are often a bit funny. You should rest.I will place the child in the next room."

"Wait," whispered Vanaria gently, "let me give it to her now."With that the elf tore a strip of the fine and priceless bed hanging next to her and slipped the golden ring onto it.The elf princess then passed the necklace to the nurse, who tied it around the neck of the babe. "Ring," spake Vanaria in elvish, the midwife watching her suspiciously, "protect and guard my child from all evil that lurks here."Then Vanaria closed her eyes, smiled and fell into a dreamless sleep. The midwife removed the babe from the room and placed the child in a crib next door. Vanaria and her child both slept.

When she awakened Vanaria was aghast at what she had done, she had borne the child of the Dark Lord and then attempted to kill her own progeny!How could she a noble elf do such a thing?The girl rose from her bed and went to seek those that had wronged her.She had to protect her child, regardless of its father.The elf princess dressed rapidly and then soundless exited her chambers.She wandered through the corridors of Dol Guldur, hiding from guards with consummate ease seeking the Dark Lord.Eventually, despairing, the girl came to hall in which a throne sat upon a raised dais.

"I know who you are!" screamed the elf woman eyes blazing standing strong threatening those who would corrupt her."You are evil.I will never serve you!"The defiance rang in the room and to those eyes that lurked in the shadows the wronged elf glowed white with purity.She was screaming her defiance to the unknown and knew not that she was watched

One being stepped from the shadows into the twilight of the hall, it was the Dark Lord's mouthpiece, an evil minion of Sauron and his emissary, also the black-cloaked man that rescued Vanaria from the clutches of Karg.He clapped slowly pleased at the performance; if part of this spirit were imparted to his Master's child it would be a worthy vassal. The Dark Lord's mouthpiece then smiled, an unpleasant sight, "But elf," he addressed Vanaria, "you have served your purpose.You are no longer required and with your attack on your own child, shame on you, you are a danger."With an expansive gesture the man waved his arm inclusively, "All this could have been your gift for the little girl."Vanaria faced the man and raised her chin, unsuccessfully attempting to mask her fear with strength.The Dark Lord minion's smile faded, "Now you can go to the orcs.Guards seize her!" the foul man ordered.He then bowed to the elf with a mocking knightly courtesy, "Farewell my master's mistress." With finality the mouthpiece of Sauron turned and left the hall.

Vanaria had heard tell of what happened to elves that fell into the clutches of orcs and paled with fear.The stories were so foul, the tales of torture so horrid that no elf would ever seek that ending.What could she do? The guards were emerging from the hall's shadows and beginning to close in upon her.Terrified and with a strength brought on by desperation she broke through the cordon of guardsmen seeking to obey their master's wishes, their lustful eyes raking the petrified girl-elf's body.She ran out of the hall and turned towards the staircase, the downward stairs were blocked by human guards so the elf decided to climb the staircase. Running upwards her speed allowing her to easily outdistance her human pursuers and soon she could no longer hear their footfalls behind her.Up the spiral staircase she ran, the cold stones passing lightly beneath her feet. Four steps a bound she covered, running as free and easy as a deer in her father's kingdom.Nearly at the summit of the stairs a guard stood preventing access to the roof and blocking the elf's path. Vanaria's fear was such that even as he attempted to stop her she continued running. Thankfully, for her sake, her elven speed was such that as she ran into him the man was forced from her path.This caused the unfortunate guard to crash into the wall of the spiralling staircase and from here he was unable to regain his footing and fell.His body served as an inconvenient obstacle for Vanaria's other pursuers.Vanaria having passed the guard spared him not a second thought even though she heard him screaming as he fell, for she now had access to the roof and freedom.The girl-elf hurriedly opened the door ancient timbered door and stood under the doorframe for a moment exulting in the fresh open air, marvelling that this was the first time in an age that she had smelt the sweet scent of the forest as opposed to the foulness of the fortress.Inhaling deeply she turned and barred the door hoping to slow those that followed her.Then across the roof she bounded, as nimble as a mountain goat. She knew no human could follow her here and the tired elf-woman knew a moment's peace and safety.

At the highest point of Dol Guldur, Vanaria stood.Far below her the minions of the Dark Lord scurried about ant-like they moved quickly, going about their masters' business with an urgency driven by fear.None of these cruel creatures noticed the proud elf standing above them. Similarly she spared them only the meanest glance and then faced northeast towards her Father's realm.The forest was molten gold in the setting sun and the dusk purpled the sky.The evening was beautiful and Vanaria was no less so, her proud, elegant and defiant beauty silhouetted against the setting sun.With tears sparkling like crystal upon her cheeks she sang.Pure and proud her voice rang out.It started with great sadness as the elf expressed her love for her forest home, her parents, brother and even her small child.The tenor of the song then changed and became laced with an overtone of fear, as Vanaria sang of her capture by the spiders, her despair in the dungeons and her terror at finding herself with child.The tone changed once more to joy as the elf described the birth of her daughter, and described the perfection of her babe's form.The song darkened suddenly as she sang of the shame of her discovery over the fatherhood of her child and her thoughts of murdering her first born and then ending with a sense of wistfulness and hope as she sang of the potential salvation of her daughter.

A swansong and once completed the elf-girl with poise, dignity and nobility far beyond her years dropped her gaze from her Father's kingdom, a land where she had always been happy, well cared for and loved."Thanduil my father, forgive me," she whispered, "and may good be kindled in my child and protect her."With this final benediction Vanaria, her eyes on her beloved forest, spread her arms and jumped crying "Valimar," meaning farewell, as she fell.

Vanaria was an elf never meant to journey across the sea.Her body thudded into the earth where the Dark Lord's servants spat upon it and mocked its beauty. Whilst high in one of the towers her amber-eyed babe cried.

*****


	4. Growth of a Dark Child

Chapter 4 – Growth of a dark child

Chapter 4 – Growth of a dark child

The cold stones whispered with the patter of light feet and a child slipped from the shadows lurking in the East corridor of Dol Guldur. There, caught in the sunlight the child froze for a moment and scanned the length of the hallway. Motionless for such an instant, highlighted in the bright sunlight an observer would have a rare view of the child of Dol Guldur. The observer would be startled with the appearance of the young one. Barefoot and dressed in cast-off clothes, so old that they resembled a beggar's rags, a young girl, around nine years of age in appearance was the rarely seen child of Dol Guldur. The Necromancer's daughter was of moderate height yet long limbed and as slender as an ash tree, no hint of tender childhood clung to this lean waif. For although she appeared to men as a youngling who has not reached a decade in truth the girl had seen over twenty summers. As she slowly turned her head the observer would see the elfin cast to her ears, her fine facial features and smooth glowing skin. In the sunlight her hair was the colour of burnished bronze throughout which glimmers of gold could be seen. Most unusual were her eyes; caught in the sunlight they glowed so brightly they appeared to mirror the sun and so intense the glow of her irises that the pupils vanished.

A slight sound and the girl cocked her head, tensed and then silently retreated to the shadows of the dusty corridor. Here she was invisible save for her glowing eyes. From the staircase at the end of the East Corridor, the reason for the child's retreat to the shadows was apparent, a tapping noise could be heard and gradually it grew louder. The child of Dol Guldur remained motionless in the shadows trying hard not to breathe as the source of the sound entered the hallway. It was an old woman, hunched over a stick, muttering softly. As she neared the girl her muttering became audible, "Dem gel… when I get 'old of 'er…"

The girl smiled hidden deep in the hallway depths. "Pss," she whispered, as quietly as possible, her eyes now glowing brighter with mischief.

The old woman ceased her path along the corridor and cocked her head listening for the sound. The good woman was grizzled with age and her clothes so patched and mended that no fragment of the original cloth existed. Her hunched back and depressed air seemed to indicate one not long for this world but the resilience and native toughness of this old serving woman would see her through over three more decades. This elderly beggar woman was the nurse of the Necromancer's daughter, and the state of her clothes provided a good indication. Then with a speed that belayed her age she whirled her stick into the shadows at the side of the hallway. The girl danced out in front of the stick laughing as she ran. The child's laugh was as pleasant and tinkling as a babbling brook and sounded misplaced in the grim fortress. Somehow in that one innocent laugh it seemed as if the girl held all the joy in the world. The old woman scowled. "Yes, laugh at me young'n, why don't you? After all I just look after 'ye."

The girl's face fell and the dancing light died out of her eyes. "I am sorry my lady," apologised the child, sincerity ringing in her voice.

"Bah," the old woman replied. "You look all innocent but I know 'ye young Valimar! You feel no guilt about no'ing." 

"How different to her mother", thought the old woman, "she never resisted nothing and what tragedy her end. She never said a cruel word and her daughter inflicts them recklessly. Still how nice of the elf to call her child's name as she died." 

The true tragedy was that the midwife on hearing tell of what Vanaria cried as she plunged to her death sentimentally assumed that it must be her baby's name. The midwife therefore called the child after Vanaria's call; and so it was that the daughter of Sauron was named Valimar, which in elvish means farewell. Perhaps it was through a sense of irony that the Necromancer allowed his only progeny to be named for departure, for no complaint had ever been from the girl's father about the name. Mayhap it was due to guilt and he had no wish to see the being that caused the death of the beautiful elf. Or more likely it was due to an apathy that the Dark Lord felt towards his child for since her birth he had not seen her nor taken any interest in her upbringing. The only touch of his presence that affected the little girl was how his closest servants monitored her behaviour. Still Valimar was the only name that Vanaria's daughter had known and thus answered too.

Valimar, unaware of her cursed name, smiled sadly at the woman who called her by it and clasped a hand to her heart, "You accuse me falsely madam. Your distrust wounds me."

"Humph!" was the only reply, the grizzled nurse well use to the child's wiles.

"Come now madam," continued the girl as smoother than a silver-tongued serpent, "when did I not feel guilt?"

The old woman looked at the mocking child, whose birth she had assisted into the world and sighed. It was not that the girl was really evil, not like some of the creatures that inhabited this forsaken place; thought the elderly midwife. Rather the girl was strong willed, self centred and thoughtless. Of course this was only to be expected when a child is brought up with little discipline, over indulged and allowed to roam as if a wild thing. The old woman regarded her half elf charge with a clear eye. She knew that Valimar was spoilt, ill discipline and malicious, look at how the youngling teased and tormented her. The girl was always running away from her lessons and at bath times, she refused to have her hair brushed and change clothes.Also invariably the girl ran used stairs as escape routes, knowing how difficult they were for a woman as old as her nurse and especially for one with a walking stick. It was funny how the daughter of a graceful elf could be such a ragamuffin, thought the old woman. The mother had looked elegant even during her captive pregnancy yet the daughter always appeared to have been dragged through a bush backwards! 

The half-elf still continued to simile beguilingly (yet scruffily) at the old woman.Who shook her head, "No Valimar, 'ye're not to go to 'te stables."

The child's smile lessened, "But madam I shall return within the hour, and then I promise I will return to my studies." 

The old nurse looked at her smiling charge and felt that although the smile had diminished slightly something in that smile now reflected some goodness. She knew full well her charge was probably lying, something the brat seemed to do that as easily as breathe, and when Valimar spoke in the high-fluting language of her tutors she condescended to her only retainer. Yet there was some hope there, thought the nurse, the girl had not been completely corrupted.The old woman reckoned that if she could remove her charge from Dol Guldur the child would be immeasurably improved.The old woman realised her musing was impractical for the Master would surely kill her if she stole his child, even if he paid the brat no attention; all he did was send spies, like his accursed Mouthpiece, to watch the brat.Well, thought the girl's nurse, if young Valimar could not be brought up outside the fortress, the young madam really ought to be whipped for her cheek!

Valimar continued, "Please madam I will be back within the hour and I promise on my Mother's grave that it shall be so," The girl's eyes pleaded.

The old woman was not heartless and the reasonableness of the plea and strength of the girl's oath was accepted.Besides if the girl was so determined to go she would anyway so it was much better for the child to be given permission.So the old nurse nodded briefly and before the nurse could utter her agreement Valimar was heading off to the stables. The nurse smiled at the impetuousness of her charge and shook her head sagely.

Deftly the child slipped out of the tower, pausing as she passed the guards. Valimar was checking to see who was on guard and how alert they were. The girl knew that her movements were of considerable interest to the soldiers (little did she know that they reported them to her father's servants) and so liked to confuse them.Sometimes she would enter the tower striking up a brief chat with the guardsmen. Then young Valimar would run through a series of secret passageways, she had found when bored, that led through the dungeons and back to the main courtyard as fast as she could.The girl would then nonchalantly re-enter the tower, acting as if she hadn't passed that way before starting the same conversations with the luckless guardsmen. Obviously this caused confusion for the guardsmen who'd report that the child had only entered the tower once. For they knew that to see her to entering the tower twice indicated that they were losing their sanity. However this day the girl was not interested in teasing the soldiers and after leaving the tower entrance headed towards the stable block.

The route to the stable block was uneventful. The orcs and rough men who lived within the fortress walls cat called at the girl and Valimar ignored them. For as long as she could remember her presence had attracted insults from these unkempt folk, but she knew this was the attention that they meted out to all those not directly in their circle. 

Once at the stable block the girl paced forward slyly her head gently and hypnotically swaying. Ordinarily horses would start and tremble at such a silent apparition but the horses at Dol Guldur were used to strange creatures. Some would even carry loathsome beings that would normally drive a beast of burden to insanity, sending it bucking and screaming into the wide yonder. These horses regarded the child with the cats-eyes placidly, a couple even snorted fondly. They liked this creature; she spoke softly and would occasionally bring them titbits that merited fondness in the horses' view. However young Valimar was not interested in any old horse today, she did not even glance in the direction of her beloved pony, which snickered at her over his stable door. The girl was interested only in discovering if the big black horse was in the stables. 

Valimar had not seen the horse arrive, or even heard of it from idle gossip by the Dol Guldur staff, rather she had dreamt it.Her dreams scared her they sometimes seemed to come true. In her sleep she had a mirror and gazed through into the future. Such things were not possible!When the girl had asked her nurse about this the nurse had smiled and said, " Aye well y'ur fath'r be right pow'ful a' magic. M'be ye 'ave the gift too." This scared Valimar. She had no knowledge of her father, except that other people in the fortress were terribly afraid of him and yet still seemed to revere him, this confused the girl to such an extent that she decided not to think about the subject.From somewhere, possibly her elvish grandfather the king of the Wood Elves, Valimar had inherited extreme practicality, so if a problem occurred that she could not do anything about she simply ignored it. 

So caught up in her contemplation the girl reached the stables.Where the stable lads watched her arrival with interest.The lads were bored and ill disciplined and this combined with the illness of the stable master caused them to revert to an unruly mob.A small section of these boys confronted the girl.They considered her to be over privileged and like the gutter scum they were ganged up upon the girl half there size.As a feral mob five surrounded the Necromancer's daughter."Ye' re so ugly tha's no s'prise yer ma killed herse'f," taunted one boy. 

"Aye," added another, "she were right pretty too." The second lad smiled reflectively imagining the beautiful woman, yet he had not been born, nor even had his father, when tragic Vanaria had thrown herself from the heights of Dol Guldur. But the legend of the elf-woman's uncanny beauty lived on as the years passed.In truth it grew with the telling and Vanaria, who had been an elf-girl of ordinary beauty, metamorphosed into the most beautiful of all women, in the eyes of the men at Dol Guldur.The other races did not care to remember her, she was an elf and elves were enemies. 

Immobile Vanaria's daughter regarded the boys surrounding her unblinkingly.

"Course she were beautiful," the first stable lad continued, sandy haired and stoop shouldered he winked as he turned to his colleague.Valimar did not see the wink.The stable lad then waved his arms enthusiastically, "but beauties like tha' are right rare. 'S said that she were a right goer. Any man could've 'er and…"

"You lie!"The girl was no longer able to pretend indifference to the underlings' conversation and she interrupted them abruptly. Valimar's whole body was tensed and the girl squared up in front of the stable lad.Her head did not even reach his shoulder of the hapless lad.

"Would m'lady be call'ng me a liar?" asked the sandy haired fool.The foolish boy was unaware of the power of his small opponent's bloodline. In the unmeasured opinion of the sandy haired adolescent the girl was a stuck up little madam. She had been annoying him all week with her authoritarian demands to curry her pony, clean her tack, no Boy clean it properly… How dare the little madam call him Boy! He would show her and it would be worth the whipping he'd get from old Tom the stable master.

Valimar regarded him steadily and silently. The boy tensed, he had being trying to bait the stuck up girl into attacking him so he could put her in her place but the little so-and-so was not playing along. The boy did not expect such a young child to stare at him so strangely; it quite unmanned him and were it not for his fellows egging him on the boy would have backed down.

The girls then blinked slowly and eyes as yellow as a cat's and with that same unblinking intensity focused. With a feline grace the child stretched, moving herself into an attacking position, the stable lads did not notice this."You lie Boy," uttered the girl calmly.

This nettled the stable lad. " No I don't your mother was nothing but a…" he did not finish his insult for as he tried to simultaneously cuff the Necromancer's daughter the girl pounced.

She sprang at the boy who insulted her dead mother's memory and now would attack her and as she sprang Valimar changed. She changed to a form similar to that used by her father but no wolf was this little one. Although the form she melded to was similarly canine to her father's it lacked the lupine aggression.Instead of a wolf Valimar's form changed to that of a hound, a proud noble hunting hound.The dog stood, at the shoulder, as high as a man's hip and had a brown coat, the bronze colour of the girl's hair and with the same matted texture. Yet still the childish form of the girl could be seen in the hound, its gait was puppyish for the dog appeared to lack full control over it's limbs and it's paws were slightly out of proportion with the rest of it – being a trifle too large. 

The stable lad noted this not. He was terrified. Before him where had stood a young girl now stood a terrifying demon dog, with eyes that glowed with an evil light.

"Nice doggy," the sandy haired lad began as his fellows fled. 

The dog growled and raised its hackles. The boy gulped and retreated a pace. The hound pressed forward. As the hapless lad turned to flee the hound sprang, knocking the boy to the ground. The dog continued to growl low in her throat. The stable lad thought he was done for and closed his eyes unable to bear the gaze of the hound of the grim-eyed dog.Then the weight of the dog was lifted from his chest.The lad peeped out of one eye.In front of him stood the Necromancer's mouthpiece holding the hound by the scruff of the neck. The hound then transformed back to a struggling and confused Valimar. Ignoring the prone boy the Mouthpiece dragged Valimar back to the tower of Dol Guldur. The Mouthpiece smiled, " Well my lady, your talents begin to show. Now we begin your training in earnest."


	5. Schooling of the Master's daughter

Sauron's Child

Sauron's Child

Chapter 5: Schooling of the Master's daughter

Valimar concentrated. Her amber eyes intensely focused on the crystal ball standing upon the desk in front of her.The girl narrowed her eyes with effort, her irises flaring golden and the slit pupils of her eyes contracting.The crystal ball remained motionless and dull upon the oaken desk. The half elf turned her head away in frustration. "Gash," Vanaria's daughter muttered lowly almost beneath her breath.

Unfortunately the sound was heard by her tutor who turned upon Valimar that instant."Giving up Girl?" he questioned a sneer further contorting his twisted features. The half elf's tutor then cuffed her soundly round the head.

The blow was not light and caused Valimar's head to ring. It sounded, to the hapless half elf, as if all the bells in Dol Guldur were sounding.She shook her head and although the ringing stopped a sudden nausea that afflicted her, she felt dizzy.With a second shake of the head, slightly more cautious than the first, the cobwebs cleared from within the girl-child's head.Now that she was more composed she glared at her instructor with hatred, her golden eyes glimmering.

The man seemed oblivious to Valimar's loathing; the girls steely amber-eyed gaze barely penetrated his consciousness.For Vanaria's daughter's tutor stood with his back to his charge gazing out of one for the few tower windows at Dol Guldur, his black eyes upon the newly leafed beech trees of Mirkwood.A sharp eyed observer in the Great Forest, who happened to be watching that tower of Dol Guldur would see Valimar's tutor silhouetted in the window.An ordinary viewer could tell the man was tall and well built, with a mane of dark shoulder-length hair flowing lose around his head but little more than that.Possibly if they were as keen eyed as an elf they would see the blackness of his eyes, and the thin tapering length of his moustache but otherwise he remained a mysterious figure in the fortress.The tutor wore neither uniform or rags, the most common garments in the fortress, instead he was richly clad in robes trimmed with furs.Possibly the observer would mistake him for the master of the tower but Valimar knew better.Her tutor was not her father the Necromancer; he was one of her Father's servants, a man who had served the half elf's father faithfully for many a year.The Necromancer had rewarded his loyal servant by allowing him access to the extensive libraries within the fortress and here the tutor studied and began to teach himself the rudiments of dark magic.The Master saw the student at his studies and realised that the man had potential so the dark lord began to train him too.So the tutor learnt how to prolong his life and now had lived longer than the spans ordinarily allotted to three generations of long-lived men.So long had the mortal walked Middle Earth that he had forgotten his name and as he spoke for his master he was known as the Mouthpiece. Upon the discovery of the Necromancer's true identity all would know Valimar's tutor as the Mouthpiece of Sauron.

So this man who had guarded Vanaria now began to tutor her daughter and his reasons behind this decision were solely self-serving.The Mouthpiece wished to further his standing with his master by teaching the elf's brat basic magic and as the girl had power he could create a useful tool for his master.The way the girl's power had become obvious, that dramatic shape-shift into the form of a hound indicated that the girl had significant potential.The Mouthpiece mused that with training Vanaria's daughter could become a powerful sorceress and with careful handling she could also be a powerful ally to him.So with these reasons the dark man tutored the Dark Lord's only child.The Mouthpiece gave Valimar lessons in ancient languages, the history of Middle Earth and basic magical spells.He also arranged for her to receive some military training so that should she ever be in the field of battle the girl would have skills other than her magic to defend herself.So too the girl had lessons in weaponry, warfare and horsemanship with the military cadets at Dol Guldur.

Soon Valimar excelled amongst the military cadets.Her Elvin quickness made her a slight but speedy foe and in one-on-one combat she could out fight all the other cadets, even the orcs whose strength was far superior to hers.The half elf developed what the Weapons Master referred to a light combat style. She whirled, danced, kicked and struck her foe relying upon her agility to stay out of reach, when she was caught by them the battle was over with the half elf losing.The other students laughed at the girl's acrobatic fighting style but still she continued to beat them on the majority of occasions.Vanaria's daughter was also a fine shot and when Vanaria's daughter's bow sang the arrow almost always found its mark.Her horsemanship was also impressive.Here her Elvin attributes also assisted her here for the horses bore the cat-eyed girl more willingly that the other students for she was light and responsive to their movements.The military cadets thought that her harmony with horses came from an ability to speak with them, something that Valimar brought up amongst men and orcs had not learned, instead the girl relied upon a native intuition, something she had most definitely inherited with her elven blood.

However in the subjects that the Mouthpiece taught Valimar the half elf appeared to have no aptitude.The girl regularly confused ancient languages with their modern counterparts and even in these her fluency was limited to the gutter language of the base soldiery.During her history lessons Vanaria's daughter tended to dream and the girl also showed a worrying tendency to romanticise the characters, something that the Mouthpiece found a deplorable piece of weakness.Unbeknownst to Valimar's tutor this was a trait that Vanaria had shown throughout her schooling at Thranduil's court.In some ways Valimar was remarkably similar to the mother she never knew.But of all the subjects taught to Sauron's daughter the one that she was most poor at was magic.Since her astounding transformation into a hound when attacked in the stable yard the half elf had not managed to repeat the task.Now even basic summoning spells were proving beyond her ken.Look at the girl now trying, or rather no longer trying to move the crystal ball.

The Mouthpiece turned from the Mirkwood view to that of his charge.Valimar stubbornly gazed at the wall, refusing even to look at the crystal in front of her."Come girl!" started the Mouthpiece, his rich voice echoing around the study.The Necromancer's Mouthpiece was proud of his voice; it was a beautiful instrument, musical, well pitched and yet still held a note of power.The timbre of his expressive voice changed and became acidic dripping venom, "Try Girl!"

Valimar turned and looked her teacher in the eye boldly.As the Mouthpiece held her gaze steadily the expression in the elf girls amber eyes became pleading."I can't," Vanaria's daughter pleaded and an edge of frustration crept into her tone, "I have tried for three seasons to move the crystal ball using magic and nothing has happened.I have no power. I am not talented.Please Sir, let me desist with these lessons for I cannot even accomplish this simple task."The girl then lowered her head and ran her hands through her hair.

For an instant the woeful aspect of the girl, her hands clawed through the bronze tresses and her fingernails scratching her scalp, appealed to the Mouthpiece and the Dark Lord's servant was moved.But then the hope that the girl would be powerful and the knowledge that she did have some talent at magic, albeit uncontrolled, revisited the Mouthpiece; so the man eyed Valimar with disdain.He then with an arrogant attitude drew himself to his full height and peered down his nose at the half elf."In your Father's name," he loudly implored, "Try!"The man then inhaled swiftly with the appearance of trying to calm himself.The Mouthpiece then continued, pitching his voice dramatically low, "Repeat after me – Lataoe Carinene…"

Valimar interrupted, "Oh! What is the use?I've tried that one and I still can't get the stupid ball to move a fingers' breadth!" She flung out one arm impatiently; her hand outstretched pointing towards the crystal ball."I cannot move it and you know it does not matter which spell I attempt!"Throughout this dramatic and defeatist speech Valimar kept her gaze interlocked with her tutor's her eyes flashing golden with emotion.She was surprised when the man dropped his gaze. The girl heard a sound like a thunk and dropped her arm. Valimar stood panting as if she had run a hard race, for that act of defiance had cost her much and she knew that it warranted punishment.Then much to her surprise her tutor clapped.Vanaria looked at the Mouthpiece with puzzlement, her head tilted to one side like a sparrow's.

The Mouthpiece smiled, and unusually this lighted up his eyes."Bravo girl," he cried, "there's magic in you yet!"

Valimar continued to regard him with puzzlement.The Mouthpiece gestured towards the desktop. Valimar dropped her gaze. The half elf's eyes widened with shock as she stared down at the read leather topped oaken desk the crystal ball had gone.The girl then bent her head to look at the floor and there lying boldly on the Harad carpet was the crystal.The light from the mid-afternoon sun passed through the globe and created circular patterning on the rug.Valimar looked at the ball in awe. Vanaria's daughter then tore her eyes from the sight to look at her tutor, who regarded her with amused eyes."How?" questioned the confused girl.

Her teacher continued to smile."How?" the Mouthpiece echoed. "No child, that is the wrong question.The correct ones would be when and why?"The man smiled, displaying his slightly pointed teeth. "When? Well as you gestured at the ball it started rolling." Then as Valimar looked confused he continued, "Come girl, surely you heard it fall to the floor?" The girl nodded briefly in acquisesence. "Good," smoothly stated the Mouthpiece, "Well the next and more difficult question is why? Now that I have yet to fathom, but fear not girl I shall!"

Valimar, rather overcome by the grace of her teachers speech stammered, "B..but I don't understand."

Still smiling graciously her tutor answered the girl, "You are not expected to girl, for I do not either.Still I am pleased.I had almost given up the hope that your Father's excellence had been passed to you.I must confess (and I do not do this lightly) that I thought you overly resembled your Mother and had inherited the deplorable tendencies of Elven folk.But lo, and how happily, you prove me wrong.Well done my Lord's daughter!"

Vanaria's daughter was now totally overcome by this the most favourable speech she had ever heard her Father's servant utter, save for when the man was praising the Necromancer, clutched her collar nervously.This was a habit she had acquired since her singular transformation into a hound.The collar too was acquired after that time.The Necromancer's daughter regarded it as a safety talisman, for the collar marked her as the Necromancer's own.So should she change her form again no hungry orc or goblin would touch her.The collar was not an object of beauty and if appeared ungainly and out of place clasped around the graceful, swan-like neck of Vanaria's daughter.The object in question was made of rank dark leather and bronze studs and it was over two fingers' breadths wide.Although the safety provided to Valimar had not ever been put to the test, for she had not transformed, Vanaria's daughter still regarded it as protection and when nervous the girl wrapped her hand around it.Another habit that the Necromancer's daughter had developed relates to her Mother's ring, given to the daughter before Vanaria gave in to despair.This golden ring Valimar now wore on her left hand and the child had always played with it.Vanaria's ring comforted her daughter and whenever the girl felt alone, or confused she would twist the ring upon her finger.At the moment the girl only clutched her collar and her ring was motionless upon her finger.

The teacher still regarded the girl, his face wearing a smile but the honesty and genuine pleasure of his charge succeeding had now given way to a more calculating appearance.The Mouthpiece now needed to teach her other methods of spelling but first he had to determine how the girl's talents worked. The man needed to think this over, so to allow himself some time for reflection he dismissed Valimar from the study.The girl scampered off joyously, probably towards the stables, mused the Mouthpiece.He then sat down in the chair that his Master's daughter had just vacated and turned his mind to harnessing the girl's magic.As he considered the occasions when the girl had spelled the man realised the similarity between them, both times the girl had strong emotions.So somehow if he could manipulate these, by finding some way to control them then she could become a skilled sorceress.The evil man pondered the situation. Somehow he had to unlock his Master's daughter potential.Yet his worries proved unfounded for when it came round to the next magic lesson Valimar had finally relaxed and began to pick up the spelling swiftly. 

By the winter Valimar was more than competent in movement spelling and could control the motion of several different objects at once.This the war-like daughter of peace-loving Vanaria most impressively demonstrated one day during her weapons training.The girl was supposed to be fighting a squad of orcs one-on-many (it was meant to be a simulation for the Necromancer's military cadets of being attacked by those accursed elves) but Valimar was in the mood for playing games.As the orcs attacked the girl simply turned her opponents' weapons on themselves.It was an amusing spectacle. Some of the creatures were being hit by the flats of their blades and trying to avoid being hit by dropping to the ground and rolling (it wasn't working as there yelps testified).Other orcs ran in front of their floating weapons trying to outdistance them, yet their blades continued to jab them in their behinds.One orc tried to climb the flagpole to get away from his sword, but even as he shinned up, still his sword poked him.The cadets that were supposed to be watching the fight were crying with laughter at the whole show, one even going so far as to fall off his bench.Only two people looked relatively unscathed by the entire process, Valimar and the weapons master.The weapons master anger only showing by the throbbing of a vein in his temple, other wise he appeared ordinarily grim.But Valimar was now beginning to look slightly strained; the effort of so much spelling was draining her.So the girl to end the game and let the weapons fall.As she did so the weapons master turned upon her and flung her from the class with the instruction not to come back.Valimar slunk away.

When the Mouthpiece was informed of the latest incident he was impressed by the power that his charge was showing.The girl had also mastered basic fire summoning and was now competent at other forms of minor flame spelling.Though only just and her eyebrows were growing back from the latest escaped.Still it was becoming apparent to the Mouthpiece that he was no longer a suitable tutor for the Necromancer's daughter, someone with greater skills would need to tutor her.Then it came to him, as the girl was to be a sorceress, it was only fitting that the Sorcerer teach her.So it was decided that Valimar be sent to be taught by her Father's Lieutenant, the Lord of the Nazgul.Vanaria's daughter was to go to Mordor.


	6. Strengthening the Darkness

Sauron's Child

Sauron's Child

Chapter 6: Strengthening of darkness

In all the history of middle earth never had one with elven blood looked so forward to heading to Mordor than Valimar.In the most recent aeons of history elves had only approached the Tower of Sorcery to do battle with the Dark Lord, to remove him form middle earth.Yet the only grandchild of Thranduil, king of the Wood Elves, was ever so excited about her departure from Dol Guldur and her home of Mirkwood.The girl was travelling to one of the darkest places on middle earth yet felt joyful about it.In truth the young half elf had no understanding of where she was headed.All Valimar knew was that she was leaving the only place she had ever known and she would prove her worthiness to meet her father. It felt wonderful too Vanaria's daughter, for the girl built up a dream picture of Mordor.In her mind her father's land was coloured with the romance that she ascribed to her mighty father.If Mordor was the Necromancer's then it must be more wonderful than Dol Guldur and that was a placed filled with magnificence.As she and her honour guard, for the girl was to be a person of importance in Mordor and was to be given the trappings of rank necessary for that, headed eastwards Valimar continued to invent her father's magnificence's.

The girl had heard that mountains guarded the entrances to her father's land and so in her daydreams she imagined tall and noble peaks rising from the land to create and impassable barrier. In which waterfalls sparkled throwing rainbows up with their spray.Where the birdsong was heard in greater volume than at Dol Guldur.How wrong was the child.Mordor was not place of beauty.Its very air oppressed the spirit.The mountains were not noble pinnacles piercing the sky.Rather their craggy forms looked like tortured bodies thrust up in agony trying to escape from the earth.They had been created with foul magic to fortify the land of Mordor.The land suffered a bleakness here that had not existed in Dol Guldur, dark though that fortress had been.There, at least, the sunlight had blazed and the beeches of Mirkwood reflected the changing seasons. But in the dull land to the west of the mountains of Mordor the burnt grass and desolation went unmarred by a single tree, the sun itself seemed to peer out weakly fearful of the shadows.

Valimar was not taken by her father's land; the wood elf within her clamoured for the beauty of the forest and here there was none.The child was disappointed and for a moment her father slipped in her estimation, as a flaw appeared in the fantasyland picture her imaginative mind had created.Yet as the Brown lands were crossed without incident.As dull as the whole journey had been, impetuous Valimar began to suffer boredom.This was a new emotion for the half elf.Previously her days had been occupied with action, learning and no little fear (particularly of her father's mouthpiece), yet on the passage from Dol Guldur to Mordor there had been little to occupy Vanaria's daughter's attention.Through the green plain lands of the Rohirrim there had at least been the prospect of a chase, possibly even a skirmish, something that the red blooded and bloodthirsty Valimar longed for.The half elf wished to prove herself on the field of battle, for although acclaimed in the practice yards she had seen no action yet."If I prove myself a great warrior," thought the motherless girl, "then my father will acknowledge me openly.If I show myself to be powerful at magic then, maybe I will become his mouthpiece or even greater."

The girl believed that only through some dramatic action, as the fanciful are want to do, would she be acknowledged and then meet her mysterious and powerful father. Subsequently she now strove for perfection, she could be a warrior (although her temper required some work), the mouthpiece believed that Valimar had the potential to be a scholar and now she was to be tested as a magic user.Vanaria's daughter resolved to be good at this too; she would become sorceresses worthy of her father.Unconsciously the half elf's hand strayed to her studded collar and she clutched it with resolve.The spikes pressing painfully indenting her elegant hand with pressure marks, but this passed unnoticed until one began to bleed.As the half elf became conscious of blood welling in her hand her eyes narrowed, irises flickering golden as the pupils contracted. The girl raised her hand and regarded it with a cool and measured gaze.It was a typical fine boned elven hand, narrow and long-fingered, graced by the golden ring of her mother but marred by calluses on the fingers, from sword practice, and a slight cut on the palm from gripping her collar too tightly.

The girl looked at her blood with interest as it began to run across the palm, the ruby richness following the contours of the lines to rest in the cup of her palm.As she regarded her blood Valimar resolved to become worthy of her father's acknowledgment and then clenched her fist, letting her blood fall to the ground."I will be worthy," swore the girl, binding this oath to the earth with her blood.In truth the girl did not realise the extent of her oath but her heart was strong and she would strive for the acknowledgement that she so craved.

Her hope was still strong when the party guarding the girl arrived at the Tower of Sorcery. The beauty of the Minas Morgul impressed the Vanaria's daughter, for there was some.This fortress was far greater than Dol Guldur with many pinnacles piercing the overcast sky.These fortress towers still held some of the beauty bestowed upon them by their original creators and though this elegance was greatly at variance with the crude extensions and additions, incorporated by the men and orcs stationed at the tower.Yet somehow the minuets maintained their architectural splendour.As they rode through the main gate Valimar craned her head backwards to view the tower better, always conscious that this would be her new home.Here, she promised herself, she would be happy.

The Dol Guldur party entered the gates or the tower without question or challenge.The ancient watcher knew that these were not foes.Then the group that accompanied the master's daughter waited in the first courtyard to be greeted.Valimar fidgeted with impatience causing her steed to skitter about the courtyard, much to the amusement of the low soldiery watching the newcomers.However the wait was not long and the Dol Guldur guard were honoured by being greeted by the Lord of the Tower himself.He approached the party with no ceremony, clad in a black hooded cloak that hid all features and indeed aspects of his person.From this covering it was impossible to tell whether he be a stocky and healthy knight or not."Indeed", Vanaria's daughter considered, "one did not know whether he be alive or dead".

The hooded one paused in front of the half elf."I be alive my master's daughter and you are his charge to me."The voice was melodious and range clear and true from the face hidden within the black hood.A beautiful and seductive voice, the romantic Valimar half fancied herself in love with the owner, yet then the hooded one cast it from his face and the terribleness' of his aspect was seen.No face was there, only shadow upon which appeared to rest a crown.

Unconsciously Valimar shrank from the creature in front of her that read her thoughts.The Lord of the Nazgul smiled, an unpleasant sight, for though he was a creature only of shadow the smile created added depth in that darkness.The half elf felt as if the very air around her had gained an indescribable coolness.Vanaria's daughter felt fear.

The fearsome creature approached the girl and her guard melted away from her, none daring to be close to the lord.With difficulty Valimar held her ground."So girl," the lord began, "you are here.Good.Now my master's daughter your real training shall begin.I understand from the Mouthpiece that you have some ability both at arms and in the arts."

Vanaria's daughter smiled and nodded her head in acquiescence.

"Good," continued the dark one."First you must show me your skill at arms.We go to the training ring.Follow me." As the entire party made to move the black cloaked one shook his head, "Only you girl."

Valimar felt a sliver of fear pierce her as she dismounted from her horse and followed the lord.She knew that she had been purposefully separated from her companions, even if she cared little for them, and the isolation scared her.Nevertheless Vanaria's daughter was not one to show fear easily, after all she had spent all of her life at Dol Guldur and many horrors could be seen there.So resolving to keep calm and keep her head the girl followed the cloaked nightmare deeper into the black fortress. 

The Lord of Mordor led his master's daughter from the first courtyard, down steps, dipped and smoothed with age, to the training ring.All guards that they passed stood straight to attention.Valimar regarded them keenly; they were as smart as the honour guard in Dol Guldur, well disciplined and polished.Vanaria's daughter was impressed for she saw that Minas Morgul had a well-run garrison.Yet even as the soldiery saluted the girl was puzzled for she had yet to determine what was going on and what her position would be her.It was obvious that the guards saluted their lord, so where did that leave her?This the half elf, swiftly pushed from her mind, for she must concentrate on what the hooded one wanted. Though still she was puzzled how much the creature knew about her, for her father's mouthpiece had not though to brief her on the current lord of Mordor.In time the girl would discover more about her new instructor but for the moment she remained clouded in ignorance.

The training ring at Minas Morgul was one half again the size of that at Dol Guldur.Similarly it too was lined with sand, but here the sand was stained in places suggested that bloodletting occurred frequently.Even the timbers of the fence that surrounded the ring and separated the contestants with onlookers were blackened with blood.The half elf felt fear.This was not assisted when she viewed the two contestants in the arena.They were well-muscled fighting men and fought with skill. Their bout was only declared over when first blood was shed, and then one was returned to a cage off to the side of the ring.In this cage several other men stood, obviously slaves from their mean clothing.The girl shivered, she felt ill omen about this place.

The Lord of Mordor, turned to Valimar calling her attention back to him, "Come girl" he began, "I would see your skill at arms." Then the black-cloaked one turned from her and motioned at a man by the slave cage to let one into the ring.

Valimar made preparations for this training bout.The girl removed her heavy travel cloak, to cries and wolf whistles from those assembling to watch the bout.The onlookers cried lewdly as it became apparent that a girl would fight and informed the slave to "give her a good one" and other much cruder statements.Yet the catcalls ceased and all fell silent as the lord held up a hand as Valimar stepped into the ring.Clad in a tunic and riding boots with her sword sheathed across her back in cavalry fashion the half elf paced to the centre of the arena.The girl watched the slave intently her strange yellow eyes glowing.

"Demon," muttered the slave, he had never seen such eyes before. Valimar narrowed her eyes and unsheathed her sword in response.

As the black-cloaked monster lowered his hand the slave attacked. Valimar sidestepped and swiftly slashed at the slave's neck.She motioned drawing her blade across his throat just one inch from it and cried, "Your dead," her voice jovial for this obvious victory should signal the end of the spar.Yet the slave retreated several paces and then rushed towards the girl.Valimar was confused, surely the bout was over, it was obvious that she could defeat this opponent, yet no halt had been called.This time the half elf kicked the knife from his hand even as he thrust it towards her and then squarely kicked him in the neck.The knife was sent spinning as Valimar motioned stabbing the slave in the stomach."You're dead," called the half elf again, looking towards the lord of Mordor, waiting for him to halt the bout.But the black-cloaked one just nodded, causing the slave in front of Valimar to close his eyes with despair. Confusion was written on the girls face as she looked at her new instructor with puzzlement."What did he mean by nodding? Was the bout over?"The girl sincerely hoped so, there was no challenge in this opponent.

"Kill him," pronounced the lord of the Nazgul.

On hearing this Valimar started back from the slave, she had thought this was just a training bout and had never taken a life before. The girl was unwilling.As the half-elf hesitated the slave, lying prostrate on the sand at her feet kicked her legs causing the girl to fall.Once his opponent had fallen the slave scrabbled across the sand to reach his knife.As the man collected his blade from it's resting place the half elf stood up and faced him, positioning herself in a fighter's crouch.The slave came at Valimar with raised blade.The girl nimbly deflected it and kicked the slave to the ground.He fell heavily and lay still upon ringside sand. Valimar turned from the ragged-clad man prostrate on the floor, to address the Lord of the Nazgul.

"My Lord," she began, "I see no point…" 

Unbeknownst to the girl the slave had regained possession of his knife and lunged towards the girl.The steel of the knife glinted in a rare sunbeam as he leapt.Yet even as the man lunged towards Vanaria's daughter's unprotected back flame flared from the master of the towers palm, it engulfed the slave and he fell writhing onto the sand of the fighting ring's floor.Valimar's eyes widened with surprise and more than a glint of fear was visible as she turned and regarded the body behind her.

"I will not save you again girl," called the Lord of the Nazgul.

Valimar gazed at the body of the man behind her, the scent of roasting flesh pervading her nostrils.Vanaria's daughter wrinkled her nose with distaste."Listen to me girl!" barked the black cloaked one, "from now on you will kill in these bouts or be killed.Mercy is of no use to the master."The Lord of the Nazgul turned from the half elf and addressed one of the slavers to the side of the fighting ring. "Put another into the ring with her."

Valimar's eyes widened, she had paid heed to that which the black cloaked one told her.He now expected her to kill."Master," she cried, "Am I not to be a sorceress, not some common warrior?Why need I kill some poor slave to satisfy your blood wish?"

The Lord of the Nazgul regarded the girl from deep within his hood."You do it girl because I command it," he stated his voice low, cold and dripping venom."I say you shall kill and so you shall! For you to ever command girl, you must first be feared, learn this lesson well." The black cloaked one gestured to a slaver, "Another," he called.The slaver obeyed and thrust an unfortunate into the ring.

This slave was well muscled and a veteran of many bouts between the slaves.He had never seen the demon-girl and but having watched her fight in the previous bout was not unaware of the risk before him.The yellow-eyed one had a speed, the like of which he'd never seen before, yet there was still a chance. The slave knew the girl would be unwilling to kill him and should he kill her he'd be slain but would live a little longer.The slave vowed to fight whole-heartedly.He bent and thrust a hand into the sand of the ring, grabbing a handful.The man then dusted both palms ready for a better grip on his short sword, a narrow and notched blade.He moved his head from side to side and rotated his shoulders, preparing for the fight.

At the other side of the ring Valimar regarded the slave's preparations, as she tucked her loose hair behind her ears."I have no wish to kill him," she shouted to the Lord of Nazgul.The dark cloaked one regarded her impassively."Agh!" Vanaria's daughter spat, "this is not what I wish to do."

The slave watched the girl and frowned, "What makes you think you can kill me, demon-girl?"He was angry at her assumption.

Valimar growled, her lip curling up and then attacked.She thrust an upper cut towards at his torso and the slave jumped back to avoid it.He then slashed his short sword at her ankles.With uncanny speed the girl jumped avoiding his blade.As she jumped she thrust downwards.Ruby drops stained the sand of the training ring.The crowd were hushed as the slave's body fell, the thump as it landed audible.Valimar looked at the Lord of the Nazgul, her golden eyes flashing cold-fire.

Beneath his hood the dark-one smiled, "That was not too hard girl, was it?"

Valimar turned her face from him angrily, growling with distaste she thrust a hand through her hair in frustration.The half-elf had had no wish to kill the slave and felt no pleasure in doing so.His blood was on her hands.Vanaria's daughter felt unclean and now regarded the black cloaked one with hatred.

"Killing is not difficult," smilingly stated the dark-one still hidden in his cloak, "Is it girl?"

Valimar snarled with distaste answering, "No my lord. There is no challenge in killing."

The Lord of the Nazgul smiled, "I think you lie Valimar." He regarded the half-elf before him acutely."You have no wish to kill and you disliked doing so, these are weaknesses that the Master can do without."Again he addressed a slaver, "Another slave to the ring."

Upon hearing this Valimar threw her sword to the floor."I do not wish to fight!" stormed the girl, fury blazing from her eyes.

The Lord of Mordor addressed the slaver again, as he whirled the black cloak around himself in impatience, "Another slave!" he called.Another slave was thrust into the ring with Valimar.This slave was armed with a short sword too and he realised that his plight was desperate for he was caught in a battle of wills between the black one and this demon-eyed girl.The slave resolved to attack straight away even though the girl's sword lay on the arena sand.

As the slave attacked the half elf spun from him, her elven speed easily allowing her to outdistance him."Have you no honour," she cried disgusted with the man facing her.At Dol Guldur there had always been a level of decency between the sparring cadets and allowing both opponents to start with weaponry had been one such measure.

The slave pressed forward, confident in attack against an unarmed girl."What does one such as you know of honour Devil?" he asked of Vanaria's daughter as he raised his sword once more against the weaponless girl.

Valimar growled low and threateningly, her amber eyes narrowed briefly as she summoned her blade, using the words the mouthpiece had taught her.Across the ring the sword flew towards the amber-eyed magic user.

The Lord of Mordor smiled in amusement. "It's true," considered the black cloaked one, "the master's daughter does have potential, but she needs instruction."The Lord of the Nazgul watched with a level of assessment as the girl caught the sword hilt with ease.He saw the moment the slave backed from her in fear and Valimar pressed forward and was pleased.The girl was passionate and ill disciplined enough to become a useful tool.With enough work she could even command lesser armies and assist in the rule of the master's domain. "Yes," thought the leader of the nine, "this one will be of value," and then returned his attention to the fight beneath him.

Valimar was furious and fought viciously, easily out-classing the malnourished slave she faced.Time and time again she had the opportunity to strike him down but she did not seize the opportunity, the girl had no wish to kill.Eventually the slave saw an opening and slashed at the half elf's arm.Valimar was not able to fully deflect the blow and the slave's blade nicked her skin.The girl's golden eyes narrowed at the pain and then Vanaria's daughter felt a red mist fall over her vision.She attacked the slave and within two strokes he lay dead at her feet.

The daughter of gentle Vanaria pulled her blade from her opponent's body with a savagery that would shock her elven kin.She wiped it callously on the rags of the dead slave, sheathed it and then stood and faced the black-cloaked one impassively, no emotion visible on her face. 

"You'll do girl," hissed the Lord of Mordor and then turned and walked into the main tower of Minas Morgul. 

Valimar watched the black-cloaked one go.She stood motionless in the centre of the ring, feet firm on the stained sand, bronze hair flowing across her shoulder as the wind fingered the loose tendrils of hair, the only indication that she was not carved of stone.There the daughter of Vanaria stood, newly introduced to Mordor and with her clothes splattered by the blood of her second kill, the half-elf's induction into the Dark Lord's service had begun.


	7. Acceptance of Darkness

Chapter 7:  Acceptance of Darkness

Mordor marks those that live there.  The inhabitants gain an unmistakable coldness and if in a lowly position they are cowed forever.  Yet Valimar had been graced with high status and this was reflected as she metamorphosed under the tuition of the Lord of the Nazgul.  For as the years passed and Vanaria's daughter changed from a scruffy young girl to a marble maiden.  Since making her second kill the half-elf had worn a mask of indifference and this carefully concealed her thoughts and feelings.  Emotion only to marred her features whilst battle training and then the blood lust would twist her beautiful visage into one of horror.  The woman was frequently found in the training arena for their she could escape responsibilities that now fell too her.  Stood upon that sand Vanaria's daughter was just another warrior whereas removed from the ring… then she was something much worse.

The girl had not been brought to Mordor to become a warrior.  Vanaria's daughter destiny was not to become such and the dark powers could perceive this.  Nor was the half-elf for the courtly life, she had no been granted no experience of the softer side.  Though what her destiny was remained undecided for the thoughts of Sauron are not shared lightly.  Perhaps the girl was to be a weapon for at Mordor her studies continued and not all were of an academic nature.  Magic and the darker arts were taught to her, as were languages, maybe she was to be an ambassador.  She was given free rein to determine her likes and dislikes and her every whim was catered for.  Should she decide that she wished for furs of animals found only to the south in Harad, she was given them.  But the trials that Valimar was forced to endure at Mordor are not for telling here.  The granddaughter of an elven king became more spoiled, selfish, ill disciplined and quick to anger.  Demon the troops called her, for with her cat eyes and quick temper like a very devil she seemed to them.

From high in a tower Valimar's tutor, the lord of Mordor, gazed down at her spending her energies in fighting.  The nazgul lord almost felt a fondness' for the girl, almost, for those dark creatures cannot truly feel affection, but in her he saw a reflection of his mortal self.  Even as he watched he smiled, sinisterly but without malice.  Now annoyance crossed her face as stray stands of the half elf's bronze locks fell round her face, requiring restraint.  Mid movement, her weapon in hand the young woman pushed the strands behind her ears, her skill was such that even when her opponent attacked with greater ferocity, during that moment of lowered concentration, she could still parry.  Then eagerly the ring-wraith watched as his master's daughter disinterestedly cut her opponent.  The orc she screamed in agony.  Agony caused not by the severity of the scratch Valimar had inflicted on him, for the cut was shallow and far from life threatening, but from the pain caused by the weapon that wounded the fell creature.  For Valimar used an elven blade.  The sword had been stolen as plunder from a battle long ago, by some long dead man and had found its way into the armoury at Minas Morgul.  There it lay almost forgotten until the half-elf found it and she recognised it as elvish so decided that she would bear it.  As with all her demands it was swiftly acquiesced.

Lazily the lord continued to study his charge.  Through his undead eyes he could view her elvish beauty and yet see the veil of darkness that conflicted with her elvish light.  But from a mortal view the girl was beautiful.  Her bronze hair was now habitually wore it in a plait, through which Vanaria's daughter wove barbed golden wire.  These metal spikes would tear the hand of any opponent that tried to grab hold of her hair. The rumour in the garrison was that the tips were dipped in poison. "Should a gold barb scratch you you would go mad," said the soldiers to the raw recruits, that or she would, "turn into a fell beast and slay you for laying hands upon her."  For the tales of her transformation had travelled with her, even if she had not accomplished the feat a second time.  Valimar's eyes were almond shaped, typically elven were it not for their strange colour and slit pupil, and of perfect proportion to her face.  Yet the amber colour of Vanaria's daughter's eyes appeared demonic and they marred her elven beauty creating something more alien and dangerous.  The woman had the pace of a warrior and the stealth of a predator.  With her slit pupils she appeared feline, something her elven grace enhanced.  The men called her The Cat of Mordor or the Demon-Elf.  Yet still many felt lust for her for she was beautiful if fell.

So as time came to pass the child of gentle Vanaria grew a deadly and unscrupulous murderer.  Should her meal be delivered cold the server that was cuffed violently counted his blessings, the Cat had removed arms for lesser offences.  Should a servant spill her wine he could be slain, or kicked,, it depended on her mood.  No compassion rested upon the maiden's brow.  Yet at times of stillness Valimar was drawn the heights of the Tower of Sorcery. Where, from its metal heights, she gazed at the stars filled with an unknown and unbearable longing and sadness.  

One clear-skied autumnal night the temperate conditions tempted her onto the top of the tower. There, as she viewed the constellations, a westerly breeze touched her, ruffling her fine clothes and playing with her hair.  She stood like an elven princess of old, her cloak spread behind her flaring in the wind, the bronze mane inherited from her mother's family rippling in the air.  Her mother's ring flashed on her finger.  Then for a moment the girl thought she scented salt in the air.  It was an unknown perfume to her, for Valimar had always lived far from the coast, and yet as its scent invaded her being a strange longing took hold of Vanaria's daughter.  She wished to go westwards.

Unbeknown to the half-elf she had an audience.  From the shadows of a tower below the Lord of Mordor watched her.  He was grieved that his protégé seemed elven in the starlight, not a creature of darkness and power, and the ring wraith had doubts about her suitability for the task that the Dark Lord wished the girl to accomplish.  Yet a sensible servant was the present Lord of Mordor and kept his own council.  As the girl awakened from her reverie, her tutor left his tower and hurried towards the half-elf, the alien hissing of his breath harsher than normal.

Valimar did not understand this strange longing for the sea that was sweeping over her but the calm she felt relaxed and comforted Vanaria's daughter.  Then the wind direction shifted.  The scent of the oceans vanished and was replaced by the stink of Mount Doom.  Valimar snorted in disgust, drew her cloak about her and descended from the tower.  

As the half-elf crossed a courtyard at a lower level a shadow moved.  "Who skulks in the shadows and disturbs my peace?" Valimar questioned loudly, her temper short.

The Lord of Mordor stepped into the torchlight. "Girl," hissed the dark creature.

"Good night to you my Lord and my apologies," replied Vanaria's daughter courtesy.  She had learnt that courtesy was the only way to deal with the Lord of Mordor, disrespect was not tolerated and the punishments for it terrible. 

"Come," ordered the Lord of Mordor, then the creature turned and walked into the shadows.  Valimar did as she was bid and followed cursing softly; she had no wish to be working now for she felt weary after her experience at the tower top.  

Her guide rapidly led her through the twists and turns of the Dark tower until they came to a section that Vanaria's daughter had not discovered.  From the cobwebs and dust that lay about it looked as if few ever used this passageway.  Eventually her father's servant arrived at an iron door, engraved with warning runes in the black speech.  Here he paused and turned to view the young woman,  "You enter here girl.  Watch and learn for our Lord will reveal much to you."  Then the fell creature turned back to the iron door, placed his hand in the centre and muttered lowly, Valimar was unable to hear his words.  The door opened inwards.

Valimar entered the room with trepidation.  It was not impossible that her tutor had organised for her to be attacked as she entered.  It was all part of her "training."  The half-elf braced herself and narrowed her amber eyes in concentration as she prepared to meet her foe and defend herself magically.

The room was empty.  It was surprisingly free of dust and grime, wholly circular and as Valimar turned to ask the Lord of Mordor is it was bespelled, she saw that the iron door through which he had entered had vanished.  Question answered.  The room was lined with large stones and there were no windows or torches for light, yet still the room was lit.  The girl soon spotted the source of the light, it was upon a plinth in the centre of the room.  Surprisingly it was covered by a  faded black velvet cloth.  Sensing nothing else to do Valimar strode forward and pulled the cloth from the light source.  A crystal ball revealed.

Softly the half elf stepped forward looking at the ball intensely.  Then standing over it she looked into it.  Immediately it seemed as if the world rushed away into nothingness and then she began to make out shapes within the sphere.

Contained with the glass the girl saw Baradur in miniature and as she continued to watch the lands to the west of Mordor appeared in her vision.  Valimar realised she was looking into a Seeing Stone, or Palantiri but had no time to ponder that as the vision with in the sphere changed.  First the Brown Lands, with there many pools, then Rohan, where riders galloped swiftly across the plains.  Then further north the crystal carried her, eventually to a tower in Mirkwood.  Valimar recognised this as her one time home and viewed the place with interest.

Then she saw an eye.  It was similar to her own and yet strangely different, being golden and with a slit pupil.  But in the eye surrounding the iris was a ring of fire that flickered hypnotically.  Still it was more alien for there were no lids to this eye, it never shut and the pupil was a slit into nothingness.  No gleam of light escaped from that blackness, staring into it made the half elf feel as if she were falling, drowning, dying.  All this conjured by an eye.  Valimar felt a rare shudder of fear, for the young woman knew that even as she regarded it, the eye was watching her.

Through the Palantiri the eye regarded the amber-eyed half-elf and a voice rang in her head.  "Daughter," the voice was majestic, noble even and yet possessed a strange sibilance as if the owner's mouth was not fully formed.  The one word seemed to echo around Valimar's head, ringing constantly, lulling her, wooing her, cosseting and yet still terrible.  It rang inside her head and offered the promise of delights unknown, answers to the half-elfs dreams and Valimar's greatest wish – acknowledgement.

"My Lord," whispered Valimar for there was nothing else she could say.  The young woman was awed by the strength that emanated from the eye, the sense of desperation conjured in her as she gazed into the void of the pupil.

"Join me," heard Valimar.  The girl bowed her head in acceptance and reverence.  The voice from the Palantiri continued.  "Attend me in Mirkwood.  For I have much to show you before I gift you Angmar."  Then there was nothing and only greyness showed in the crystal ball.

Valimar stared at the Palantiri useless for some while before softly whispering, "Father?"  No answer was forthcoming.  "At last," thought gentle Vanaria's daughter, "her father acknowledged her and he would grant her power!"  Covering the Palantiri, the half-elf turned on her heel to find the Lord of Mordor watching her.  To her surprise he bowed.  

"You are my master's daugher and my lady," pronounced the Nazgul in his hissing tones. 

Valimar was greatly surprised, for the Lord had never thus honoured her.  Yet sensing a response was required she dipped her chin to agree.

"The master commanded you milady?" servilely questioned the Lord of Mordor.

Valimar, though confused, sensed that a power play had occurred here and some how she had won.  Her tutor was no longer her tormenter. He had become her servant.  " I am to attend my father in Dol Guldur," announced the half-elf, her voice ringing over loud in the round room.   Then revelling in her newfound power she continued, "Make the arrangements Lord of Mordor and have a squad accompany me.  I wish to ride at dusk tomorrow."

The ringwraith bowed before the half-elf again.  "As you command, milady," hissed he.

Valimar turned and strode from the chamber.  Her head held high, amber eyes flashing and her steps ringing as she marched down the little used corridor.  The girl was content.  She was acknowledged.  She was her Father's daughter.

The Lord of Mordor watched, Vanaria daughter go and as she vanished into the darkness the fell creature smiled. 


	8. Capture of Darkness

Chapter 8:  Capture of Darkness

The purpling of the sky heralded the night and dusk fell on Mordor.   The jagged mountains, at the eastern boundary, cast their shadow over the land and softly starlight illuminated the rocky ground.  The moon was late in rising but the party that prepared to ride out from the Tower of Sorcery did not miss her light.  In torchlight mounts were saddled for Valimar and the human captain of the orc honour guard.  The orcs themselves were Urk-Hai, so could keep up with the riders and travel in daylight. Eight would accompany their master's daughter on her journey to join him at Dol Guldur.

Valimar was not happy.  She had wished to leave at dusk and still remained in Mordor.  Angrily she paced, her black cloak flowing behind her.  The horses stabled around her skittered, sensing the impatience of her mood.  "Who is captain of my escort?" barked the half-elf.

A man, clad in rough mail, stepped towards the young woman and bowed.  "I am my lady," he stated reverentially looking at the figure before him.  The woman was dressed in elven armour, which like her sword, was plunder from some battle an age ago.  Only the half elf could fit the elven armour so she claimed it as her own,

Valimar's eyes flashed dangerously.  "Why are we late leaving?" she asked, enunciating each word clearly, as if to a small child, "I wish to attend my father now!"  The last was roared and the captain flinched.

"Milady," he began, before being silenced as the half-elf struck him.  

The girl slapped the soldier in front of her and following the crack of her palm on his cheek silence descended on the courtyard.  All waited and watched in fear of the Demon to see what she would do next.  "Do not interrupt me human," berated Vanaria's daughter her Mordor instruction apparent.   As Vanaria's daughter made to strike the unwitting captain a second time her hand was caught from behind.  Turning wrathfully to see who dared lay hands upon her, Valimar was surprised to discover it was a ring wraith.

"I apologise my lady," hissed the nazgul, releasing her arm and bowing low, towards the scowling girl.  "But the master had further instructions for me."

"What?"  snapped the bronze-haired woman, amber eyes flashing.

"Your mighty father commanded me to give you this," said the wraith and handed the girl a velvet parcel.  "And," he continued as the half-elf made to unwrap the item, "the master bid me tell you to join him at all speed."

There was no time for Valimar to inspect her bauble.  Speed was of the essence.  The party rode out from the gates of Mordor heading west.  Valimar halted her horse, turned and took one last look at her father's land.  The jagged mountains of Ephel Dúath pierced the skyline, a reminder of her father's power.  Clutching her collar she swore, "I will make you proud father."  Then the half-elf wheeled her horse westerly and cantered to catch up with her troop.

The journey across the lands close to Mordor was uneventful.  The orcs bickered amongst themselves but followed their orders.  The party travelled swiftly and soon the lands of Rohan were reached.  On those great plains they encountered a troop of riders and had to flee from them.  The grasslands seemed endless and the Rohirrim were strong in pursuit.  The followed Valimar and her bodyguard for days and slowly the Misty Mountains drew nearer.  Eventually the horses from Mordor began to tire and were close to lameness. The Rohirrim gained on the party from Mordor.  It was obvious to all that they would soon overtake them.  "Hold and fight," ordered the human captain, "protect the lady with your lives."  The orcs began to rank up and surround the half-elf.

"No," commanded Valimar, "make for those woods".  She pointed to some so distant they appeared blue.  "The trees will slow them down.  We'll out run them.  My father commands I join him."  The elf kicked her horse to a gallop and made for the forest.  The orcs and their captain quickly swiftly followed her lead.

Once the tree line was reached the orcs quickly reformed as an honour guard and the Mordor squad's pace slowed.  Valimar and her troop felt safer beneath the boughs for the Rohirrim halted their pursuit, unwilling to enter the woods.   The orcs shouted taunts at the men and the Mordor party continued to move deeper into the woods.

The troop's captain pulled his horse back so he was riding level with Valimar.  "Milady," he began, as his hand touched his forelock in salute.  "This place is not safe.  I suggest that we leave her and take our chances with the Horse-boys.  Is it your wish?"

There was no time for the young woman to reply.  An orc to the front of the troop screamed and fell, two green fletched arrows in his back.

"Elves!" spat an orc, drawing his blade.

"Gar!  Rot them," another roared another, as a third arrow flew, piercing his arm.  The orc's black blood oozed from the wound.  "Rack Urg Moraz," he swore in black speech.  Another arrow flew and this time pierced the swearing orc's throat.  Black blood sprayed onto the troop member nearest to him.

"We are under attack," roared the human captain, turning so he could face Valimar.  "To me!" he cried, even as the elves became visible.  "Protect the…" his sentence was left unfinished.  The man fell from his horse, an arrow protruding from his eye.

The grey clad elves leapt from the trees and attacked the Mordor intruders viciously.  Vanaria's daughter, at the edge of the party was spared in the initial attack.  Most weren't and over half the troop that had set out from Mordor had now fallen and lay on the woodland floor, softly dappled in the sunlight.  Then one of the grey clad warriors lunged at Vanaria.  Her horse, unused to battle, shied nearly unseating the half-elf, and it took the blow, meant for Valimar, on its shoulder.  Crimson stained the forest floor.  The horse reared in pain, eyes rolling and foam dripping from its mouth.  Still Valimar hung on grimly, urging the beast to rally and flee.  Intuitively the half-elf knew that this battle would not be won and the only option was to flee.  She could not clear her mind enough to use magic and both hands were needed to steady her steed, so swordplay was not an option.

"Retreat," screamed Valimar using the black speech that the orcs spoke amongst themselves.  Then the girl dug her heels violently into her mount's sides and she hauled harshly on the horse's mouth, attempting to turn it sharply.  In response to her efforts the horse spun round.  For a moment, in front of the half-elf, there was a path clear from the skirmish to the depths of the wood. The quiet leafiness did no more than beckon and as Valimar urged her horse forward towards freedom, the nag slipped on the blood-soaked earth.  As the beast crumpled down onto its offside knee Vanaria was pitched onto the earth. Her temple stuck a loose stone and the battle faded as the world turned black.

Orcs battled elves around the unconscious girl.  More orcs fell and then those remaining turned and fled, their own skins more valuable than a position in an honour guard. "Run away and live to fight another day" was their motto. There was no honour in battle for them, so they turned and fled disobeying orders from the highest level and leaving their master's daughter in enemy hands. 

The grey clad elves did not pursue the fleeing foe; instead they slaughtered the injured enemy. Mercy was not a commodity granted to the Dark lord's servants with.  The only good orc was a dead one.  So as the dying orcs around her were returned to their maker Valimar lay undisturbed on the edge of the battle site.  Eventually one of the elves reached the side of the black clad girl and pulled the fabric from her face in order to better find the enemy's throat.  Even as her face was exposed so to was the elven armour.

"Aiee!" cried the elf, "there is one of our kindred here.  Though how she came to lie so in the midst of this skirmish I know not."

The slaughter of the injured orcs ceased as the other grey-clad elves swiftly gathered round the prone body of Valimar.

"Ah, my head," moaned Vanaria's daughter.

The elves drew back from her at that, one murmured, " This maid speaks in the tongue of men, yet I would swear she was of our kindred.  Come maiden," he continued louder in elvish, "you are amongst your people. Fear not."

"Who am I?" Valimar repeated, in the common tongue, raising her head and shadowing her eyes from view with her hands.  The half elf had some knowledge of elvish which had been taught to her during her time as a student of the Mouthpiece of Sauron and could comfortably understand the elves around her, but her speaking ability was limited and so rather than show this lack of ability, pride was everything to the half-elf, she spoke in the language of men.  Then the child of Vanaria smiled and withdrew her hands from brow making her amber eyes visible to the grey clad elves surrounding her.  The elves drew back further from their golden-eyed kin and gasped with amazement at her eyes.  Valimar continued relentlessly, "I hear you ask let me answer clear:

I walk in the dark yet live in the light,

Have some beauty yet echo might,

Daughter of night and sun,

Child of power yet heir to none.

Wielder of both blade and pen,

Maiden of bower and cat of den,

Am haunted by the starlight,

By the westwards call

Am the master of nothing,

But will be mistress of all."

The elves of the Golden Wood looked questioningly at each other at this.  "This girl has ambitions of power," they muttered angrily amongst themselves.  "Yes, but who is she?" questioned others.  "Yet she speaks of the western call," more interjected, "mayhap she is elven."  "Nay," called out yet more, "she wishes to rule all.  No elf ever had such a dream.  She rode with orcs, let us finish her"

As the muttering of the elves continued the original elf that had addressed Valimar, a brave and handsome young captain named Ralfolier, spoke up in the language used by the girl.  "Lady, you are something that differs from the norm.  For we thought you kin, yet you know us not and speak with the common tongue of men.  Also the eyes' of a cat rest in your fair face and that is singular in itself.  Furthermore Madam, you speak in riddles that we do not comprehend."  

His whole tone was one of courtesy and respect and Valimar unused to being addressed so chivalrously tilted her head with curiosity and a soft smile replaced her malicious grin.  This action transformed her and her elven beauty became apparent.  The elves whispered amongst themselves for as her elven appearance became more pronounced it made her cat-like eyes more puzzling.  In truth Vanaria appeared as if she must be one of the elder races, and the elves were confused, why was an eldar speaking with the tongue of man?  Indeed what would one of the eldar being doing amongst the fell orcs they had slain?  In truth this was a question they felt they were not fit to deal with. 

Quietly the grey-robed elves conferred together.  After a while they reached a conclusion and Ralfolier, the self appointed spokesman, addressed Vanaria's daughter, " Madam we would take you into our lands to meet with the wise amongst us. Yet these times are not gentle and you, an injured maid, could be our foe.  Therefore we will bind your hands and eyes and lead you through the woods.  So come lady smile and feel no fear. We do not harm our friends or even enigmas such as yourself.  No harm shall befall you until we solve the riddle whether you be friend of foe, injured maid."  Ralfolier smiled at this robbing his statement of any malice.  "Come lady," he repeated, "You are honoured for you will meet our lady, the lady of Lotherian."

Valimar realised that she had no choice in this.  The girl nodded her head once in acquiescence then suffered her hands to be bound and eyes to be covered.  Unresistingly the child of Sauron was led into the Golden Wood.


	9. Glimmer of Light

Chapter 9: Glimmer of Light  
  
The melodic notes of bird song graced the ears of the half elf as she walked blindfolded. The music of the birds combined with the gentlest whisper of wind in the trees to remind the elves' captive of her childhood in the southern reaches of Mirkwood. Valimar remembered how as a youngling she had watched the birds soar. Oh, how she had wished to be one of them, free to travel where she will, accountable to none and with the responsibility of none either. The trilling of the little feather folk became balm to the girl's spirit, for a moment they seemed to be talking to her, the half-elf shook her head at her own stupidity, as if birds could talk! Yet still the whistling comforted the girl for she was fearful of her captors and still no little stunned from her head blow.  
  
Even as Vanaria's daughter walked the pain in her head grew greater. The cloth that was tied across the half-elf's eyes though dark became infused with flashes of light. Bright as shooting stars and as colourful as a dragon's hoard they danced to Valimar's brain, glinting, dashing, comets of light and pain. To the captured girl it suddenly seemed as if the world were spinning. Her feet became confused under her and the half-elf stumbled, pitching forward into her escort. Yet the girl's captors had led her thoughtfully, avoiding roots and bushes placed to trip the unwary and not once had the amber-eyed one cause to stumble. To Valimar everything was moving, her balance shattered and the half elf fell to the ground. Beneath her the grass lay cool and comforting, yet even then to her the world's rotation continued until she mercifully slipped into blankness.  
  
Consciousness came back to Valimar slowly. Seeming for hours she drifted, surrounded by a grey fog. Slowly it began to clear and images to form. Great grey trees, woven thatch, silver lights, all jumbled and confusing. In this kaleidoscope of images Vanaria's daughter came to the heartland of the Galadhrim. Yet truthfully only a few moments had passed.  
  
"Where?" croaked Vanaria's daughter, surprised at her weakness for she had meant to ask where she was but had no mastery over her voice and all the girl could manage was one pathetic word.  
  
A merry laugh answered the girl, "You are in Lothlorien now friend or foe. So rise and come child, our lord and lady wish to speak with you. They will decided what you be" the smiling elf said, "Now do not tarry. You are fit enough to rise and greet them."  
  
At this Valimar felt a shiver of fear and a tingle of cold burred her spine. These accursed creatures had destroyed her troop, scattering and slaying the honour guard with ruthless efficiency. Dark thoughts clouded the half-elf's mind as she suffered herself to be led onwards.  
  
Up the great trees Valimar and her armed guard passed and soon all arrived at the hall of audience. Here the room was ringed by grey-cloaked guards of honour, weapons at the ready for any potential threat that the prisoner, for in truth so was Valimar, bore. The guard's swords were as gleaming as the half-elf's own blade, and which she now realised had been removed from her side. The lack of a weapon unsettled Vanaria's daughter, she did not appreciate standing defenceless before potential foes. Warily the amber- eyed one scanned the room, measuring the defences and possible routes of escape. Cautiously she glanced around at her captors and in doing so encountered the gaze of the rulers of the land.  
  
Stood on steps of audience, awaiting the grace of their guest, with a dignity and patience that only agelessness can bring, were the lord and lady of Lorien. Beneath their piercing gaze, Vanaria's daughter felt strangely humble and she, before whom many had grovelled, bowed with stately dignity to the two elves.  
  
Proud and regal Celeborn raised a hand in acknowledgement of the greeting from the half-elf. Tall and golden, the morning star, Galadriel fixed her gaze upon the half-elf. "Welcome my kindred," spoke the lady using the common tongue.  
  
A murmur ran through the crowd of elves gathered. For they could perceive the shadow within the amber-eyed one and were greatly surprised that the lady of Lorien would acknowledge such a one as kin and using such a language.  
  
However Valimar sensed something else. She felt the Lady of the Lorien probing her mind, a light touch, yet the half-elf greatly disliked the sensation. Too swiftly memories of her training at the hands of the Nazgul rose. The amber-eyed girl raised her Morgul trained defences, shut her mind to the gentle invader and mentally screamed, "No!" All of the girl's skill and last strength went into that chill call and with it her slit pupils dilated and the power to stand left her. Vanaria's daughter collapsed on the audience room floor.  
  
Galadriel, the golden haired lady of Lorien blinked in surprise and pain as the connection shattered, stumbling backwards. The lady was saved from falling only by the swift attention of Celeborn, for the lord stretched out and arm catch his lady. Gentled the elvish woman righted herself and regarded the cat-eyed girl sprawled before her with unmistakeable curiosity. Slowly she stepped down from her dais towards Valimar who remained lying face down on the chamber floor.  
  
Even as the golden-haired elf approached the amber-eyed girl, Valimar sprang to her feet, eying her approacher narrowly. Tense and alert, the coiled energy, defiance and strength of will within the girl were apparent to all within the chamber. Guards held their weapons with earnest readiness.  
  
However Galadriel was unbothered and slowly the lady circled the half elf. Observing the girl's warrior bearing, bronze hair, elvish features, cat- like eyes, the collar at her throat and the glimmer of gold upon her finger. "What have we here?" wondered the lady aloud.  
  
Valimar's eyes burned with an unholy fire and the half-elf raised her chin. "Please ask Madam, for I shall tell you true," announced the girl, with definitive emphasis on the words, ask and true.  
  
"Then who are you?" questioned the Lady; gently returning the half-elf's fierce gaze.  
  
Sensing that this was not one to trifle with the half-elf answered courteously, "My name is Valimar."  
  
A muted mutter could be felt within the chamber as the name was heard. Valimar cocked her head questioningly to the side, the girl's aura of tension in no way diminishing.  
  
"An interesting name," politely commented Celeborn watching the girl as she surveyed the room.  
  
"I believe it is farewell in your tongue," commented Valimar with equal politeness.  
  
"True," stated the Lady Galadriel, "it is not a name of good fortune." Then gesturing elegantly towards Valimar's ring clad hand, " May I?" asked the lady.  
  
Valimar, moved her hand behind her back and was about to utter a rapid denial, when she saw something surprising within the Lorien lady's eyes. Amidst the timeless gaze, care and concern mingled with a glimmer of empathy. Vanaria's daughter was astounded, what had the glowing, graceful creature in common with her? Surely there was nought in common between her warrior self and this courtly creature and yet. Self-doubt shook the proud half-elf.  
  
All were surprised even the half-elf herself, for the girl moved with a swift grace, pulled the ring from her finger, bowed her head in acquiescence and placed the golden object upon the outstretched lady's hand.  
  
The tall blonde elf woman nodded in grateful acceptance of the gesture and studied the ring cautiously. Reading the ring's inscription Galadriel's eyes widened and a frown began to mar the timeless elegance of her face. "Know ye what is written here?" she asked the amber-eyed girl.  
  
Valimar shook her head warily and sullenly admitted, "I cannot read the script madam but I know it belonged to your Mother."  
  
At this Galadriel delicately arched an eyebrow in query. "Interesting," spoke the lady of Lorien. "For I can read the script and it would proclaim you kin."  
  
"What does it say?" questioned Valimar earnestly, "For I know naught of my kin and would happily learn."  
  
The lady of the Lorien read out, "For Vanaria my daughter, Thranduil." At which there were shocked gasps in the audience chamber.  
  
Celeborn raised his hands to still the murmurs and silence swiftly descended. "For the moment young one," he addressed Valimar, "it would appear that you are indeed kin. As such you will be treated with grace but forget not that the lands of the golden wood is both perilous and fair."  
  
Valimar recognised the warning in the lord's address and half smiled ruefully. "So I am to be an honoured guest and not a prisoner then?" she questioned.  
  
"Precisely," smiled Celeborn. The court tittered.  
  
At that the half-elf laughed without humour, sounding like a crow amongst nightingales and shook her head.  
  
"Nay," said the lady of Lorien, "be not bitter. There is always hope."  
  
At that Valimar's laughter rang out genuine and for a moment, to all that gazed upon the half-elf, she was just another elf. 


End file.
